Day 13
July 26, 2013
Ododmeter: 21,537 km · Left Kalaloch just before 10am. Enjoyed a little too much of TBC’s finest last night … feeling a bit groggy. Can’t wait for a coffee· Grabbed fuel and brekky in Amanda Park, WA … biscuits and gravy … homemade sausage-gravy!· Sue and the girls are going to Centralia for a bit of shopping at some outlet mall, and a swim and a shower at Chehalis.· Kind of cool and overcast. Intermittent cell coverage so I’m not sure what the forecast is for the next few days. Made a leisurely trip to Mt. Rainier park. Took 101 out of the park, and all the way to south of Aberdeen, and then Hwy 6 east to Chehalis. Then 12, to 7, to 706, and entered the park· Entered the park at the southwest corner (Paradise Gate?).· Was a bit of tourist traffic, but an excellent ride. Paradise Rd. and Stevens Canyon Rd in the park were FANTASTIC!! It’s a shame that the Drift isn’t working … 180degree hairpins, huge elevation gains and drops!· The drivers in the park were extremely gracious with respect to pulling over into the pullouts to let me by. The first couple of times it happened, I thought maybe I was following too close and scaring them so the next time I came up behind a cage, I held back a bit further. Same thing … they pulled off into the next available pullout, let me pass, and then jumped back into traffic behind me. Either everybody is a former-rider, or they just grow a better brand of cager in these parts!

· Took my time and enjoyed the ride. Got to the Ohanapecosh campground (in the southeast corner of the park) ahead of the girls. Was starving, so I tucked into my stash of freeze-dried meals. As I was cooking, a woman from across the road wandered over. Judging from the plates on the vehicles she was from OR, and camping with another family from WA. But as it turns out, she’s originally from Canada, saw the AB plate on the bike and wandered over to chat. In fact, she (Marcy) was from a small community in southern ON where my wife did her teaching practicum as a student. Small world!! Once Sue and the girls arrived, we got them fed and Susan wandered over to chat with Marcy. The kids from both families all ran off in one gang of Barbie bikes and skateboards … proof-positive that kids are only a half-step from a troop of monkeys.

Day 14
July 27, 2013· Spent the 27th doing touristy-stuff in the Park … a couple of short, flat hikes with the kids (got some good pics at the ‘Grove of the Patriarchs’), some photo-ops at Narada Falls, Paradise Visitor Centre, etc. Back to the campground for dinner, and taught the kids the finer points of S’Mores.

· Smoke: Some skanky old stubbies left over from our trip to the Dominican Republic.· Libation: Cheledas!!! I can’t believe they don’t sell this stuff in Canada. I don’t know many folks at home who don’t appreciate a good cold beer-and-Clamato (especially if they come pre-mixed), and I have yet to meet an American who prefers Clamato over tomato juice for beer or Ceasars. (There’s my retirement plan … Cheleda smuggler!)

· Rainier to Seattle· Split from the girls right away on the morning of the 28th.

· Pretty interesting road leaving the park. Weather was warm and the skies were clear, giving up great views of Mt. Rainier pretty much the whole way out of the park. The road shoots north up the east side of the park, meaning that all the shots of Mt Rainier were nicely lit.

· Girls are planning to stop and do some laundry and shopping on the way to Seattle. Despite dawdling my way, I got to the hotel in Bellevue, WA in mid-afternoon. Room wasn’t ready and the girls hadn’t shown up yet so I sat in the lounge (in my sweaty riding gear), watched some US TV coverage of the Olympics, and sampled a few of Puget Sound’s best malt beverages. Once the room was ready, I unpacked the bike and changed out of my riding gear. The girls arrived a little later, and once we got them unpacked we beat the heat in the pool, and prepared for a few days of out-and-out tourist invasion. On the list were:

o As much seafood as this kid could eat;o Pike Place;o Space Needle (ended up doing it twice … once during the day, and once at night);o Aquarium;o Some shopping;o Mariners game (had booked tickets before we left … was some sort of ‘Family Night’ promotion … tix were super-cheap … $10 per person. The downside was that it was vs. the Jays, so the stands were full of obnoxious Canucks … including my wife and kids! Go Mariners!!).

Libation: Many and assorted goodies from the Pacific NorthwestWhat's a trip to the 509 without an R-dog!

· Pretty casual departure from Seattle. Waited for the commuters to get on their way, and then hit the road. Had to meet up with Kenny at Yakima at noon, so I just took slab the whole way.· Even though I’ve done this route (and similar routes) and KNOW better, I’m always surprised at how dry the ‘inland empire’ is … both in WA and OR. The lush coastal vegetation didn’t last long heading east, and gave way to increasingly more arid landscapes. Real ‘Highplains Drifter’ shit … kept expecting to see Clint riding out of the scrub-brush. At one point on way from Ellensburg to Yakima I got the distinctive aroma of sage wafting through my helmet … something the cagers definitely miss out on.· The downside of riding through this beauty was the f-ing heat. Everytime I stopped for a photo or to shoot some video, I was instantly soaking wet. Once I got underway again, it didn’t get any cooler (was like riding into a hair drier) but at least the sweat evaporated. Was chugging water like a bastard everytime I stopped, and wasn’t pissing much out.· Was surprised at the number of Hispanic people in Yakima (and Mexican restaurants) as I rode into town. Kenny explained later that a lot of Hispanic families had migrated north to work in the ag-operations in the area, and over time many of them had settled here. To be honest, I’d forgotten that the interior of Washington was a horticultural centre until I started passing apple-sorting facilities with the huge bushel–boxes stacked out front on the way into town. Lots of orchards in the Ellensburg valley, and irrigation pivots everywhere.

Overlooking the valley, just after the turnoff at Ellensburg

· Met up with Kenny for lunch at Yakima Sports Centre. Tried a couple of local craft-brews to beat the heat. Opted to sit outside on the shady sidewalk patio and watch the world go by. I can’t remember what I had for lunch, but I remember not really wanting to get back on the bike and ride into the heat. Kenny had brought some stogies to enjoy, but between a) not being really sure what the Yakima bylaws were on public smoking; and b) knowing full well that I’d have at least one more brew with the stogey, we decided not to partake there. · It’s only approx. 3 hours by slab from Yakima to Spokane (the destination for the night), so I asked Kenny for some ideas on off-the-interstate sightseeing options. Five minutes and a beer later, I had a plan of attack. · Kenny sent me on my way with a nice Arturo Fuente to enjoy on the trip, and I left Kenny with an Edmonton Oil Kings ball cap. (Although, I have to admit it was the flat-billed, wannabe-rap-star style, and not the tried and true broken-in style that any self respecting adult would choose. The friggin’ Oilers store in Edmonton was surprisingly low on Oil Kings swag when I went gift shopping … and had nothing with their 2012 WHL Champions status emblazoned on it. Go Oil Kings!!) Ken lives smack-dab in the middle of the WHL’s US Division … I hope he doesn’t get beaten up for his lunch money for wearing Oil Kings gear in the 509!

BTW ... Kenny is a fellow 'fancy degenerate' from the 509 that I met online (long story ... sounds a bit gay no matter how I tell it ... note to self: never try to explain that one to the wife again) ... check out his online shit at SorryForYourLuck.com and on YouTube.

· Stopped on the way out of town for another photo-op

· Backtracked from Yakima to Ellensburg and got back on the i90 until just a bit past the Columbia River. I happened to spot signs for ‘The Gorge’, and thought I’d take a look. For those who haven’t heard of it before, the Gorge is a fairly famous concert venue; a ‘natural’ amphitheatre set on the banks of the Columbia, with the river and the west-bank as the backdrop to the stage. I’ve heard lots about the gorge, but have never seen a show there. There didn’t appear to be much going on there, so I thought I’d ignore the ‘Authorized Personnel Only’ signs, and idle my way towards the river and see what I could see. After passing a fifth sign warning that mere-mortals weren’t allowed, my faith in my ‘better-to-beg-forgiveness-than-ask-permission’ strategy was waning. Just before the road appeared to drop elevation towards the river it passed the site office and I decided to ‘check-in’. Mistake. Some jackass with a clipboard couldn’t believe I’d ridden past all the signs, and was pretty snotty about telling me to GTFO. As I was putting my helmet and shit on, he was talking to some one on a radio and before long I had an official Gorge pick-up following me to make sure I left. Didn’t even get any decent pics. Note to self … next time, stick with the plan.· Kept going NE from the town of George on a series of secondaries toward Grand Coulee Dam. Landscape got really ‘erosional’ … lots of buttes and outcrops, and still drier than a popcorn fart. A lot like the Drumheller badlands at home, but older rock instead of sedimentary. Pulled into the town of Grand Coulee in late afternoon. Took a walk around the foot of the dam and took a few pics. Opted not to take the tour … it was getting late and I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take to get to Spokane. As far as dams go, it’s not a huge one. However, it’s one of the (if not ‘the’) biggest concrete dams in the world. If I recall correctly from the tourist propaganda they had displayed at the visitors’ centre, at the time of construction it was the biggest concrete structure in the world.·

· Leaving Grand Coulee, I stopped for fuel at the top of the hill. As usual, the pay-at-the-pump didn’t work with Canadian credit cards (we can send a fucking probe to Mars, receive colour, HD images back, but we can’t figure out a better way to ‘secure’ transactions at a gas-pump. I can use my cc in Nova Scotia (5000km from home), but not in WA (1000km from home) … whew! Sorry … venting complete.). There was a bit of a line at the regular fuel pumps, and I was a bit conscious of occupying a pump for a measly $9 in fuel, so I was trying my best to hustle in and out. As I was walking in and out of the store to pre-pay, fuel-up, get change, etc. I noticed a woman pull out of the line and pull up to the diesel pump in a Camry. Right away, I knew either a) she just budded in line and there’s about to be some shit go down; or b) Toyota now makes a diesel Camry. She’s all tarted-up (fake nails, big hair, oversized shades, heels, etc) and busy talking on her cell phone while filling her car. As I’m putting my shit together to get ready to pull away, it becomes apparent that this dingbat couldn’t figure out why all the people in front of her in line weren’t using the pump with the pretty yellow nozzles, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. I was about to take pity on her and fill her in, when an elderly gentleman (who was in line still) let her know what she was going. And she gave him attitude for interrupting her telephone conversation. I was torn … do I wait for her to pull away and get some footage of the imminent blue-cloud? Or do I GTFO before I get stuck behind her on the highway and have to suck smoke. I opted to take off, so I don’t know if she heeded the good Samaritan’s advice to stop what she was doing and have the tank drained, or if she continued refueling and tried to drive away. I guess I’ll never know! It is, however, refreshing to know that every so often, karma comes through and taps ignorant people on the head.· More cool landscape and a beautiful evening for a ride. I was able to take secondaries almost all the way to Spokane, so not much traffic on the road. A fantastic, relaxing ride.·

· Pulled into Spokane just as it was starting to get dark. Had vague directions for the hotel, but wasn’t really sure what turn-off to take from the interstate. Fired up the GPS, and tried to enter the address while riding (I know, I know …. Dumbass). It directed me to take an exit right by a big mall, and given that the wife had booked the hotel, I figured I was on the right track. However, once I was past the mall, it was a light-industrial area and I was pretty sure I’d entered something incorrectly. After pulling over to double check the address, I kept going, and sure-enough, there in the middle of trucking yards and parts-distribution warehouses was a little cookie-cutter chain motel (I can’t remember what brand … but they’re pretty much all the same).· I trolled the parking lot for the mini-van, fully expecting the girls to be there already, but no luck. So I checked in, dropped off some of the luggage, and tried calling Susan’s cell. No luck. They were probably at dinner, and I was starving, so I just popped back to the choke-and-puke I’d passed on the way. Another good day of riding complete.· Libation: Cheleda from the gas station beside the hotel.· Smoke: none · Tunes: Don’t remember, and by this point, my journaling went all to shit. One good thing about solo-camping … lots of time for reflection and note-making. Not so much when doing the family thing.· Milage for the day: 653km

· Pulled out of Spokane before the girls, and headed east. Nice morning, little traffic.

· Headed north around Couer d’Alene. I haven’t been here for years, but I started to recognize things just before the Silverwood Amusement Park.

· Pulled over for a late breaky at the turnoff for Farragut State Park. Found a little ma ‘n pa diner for perhaps my last nice, greasy, road breakfast (and last chance for food-porn) of the trip.

· Before I left, Junior and I were going to try and meet up somewhere on this leg, but things didn’t work out. He was piecing another route together and was possibly in the area. I got a hold of him via text/email over breakfast and it turns out, he was in Osoyoos and pushing hard for Toad Rock so we weren’t going to be able to meet up.

· However, Junior reminded me that I was within striking distance of Yaak, MT. Junior and his buddies have been making a semi-regular pilgrimage to Yaak for a while. A nice quiet spot, well off the beaten tourist track, spectacular riding, good camping/accommodations, and two bars in the middle of the woods. I now had a destination!

· Was super hot, so I pulled into the public beach at Sandpoint to try and get off the bike and grab a cool drink somewhere. Was pretty busy (and the bikini quotient was pretty low) so I pushed on and just grabbed a pop at a gas station on the north side of town, and kept heading towards Bonners Ferry.

· At Bonners Ferry, Hwy 2 turns east and crosses into MT. Just over the ID/MT border is the turn-off to Yaak. I wasn’t exactly sure where it was, so I had to keep pulling over to check the map and GPS. I was sure I had blown past it, when, lo-and-behold, the sign for the Yaak turnoff appeared.

· Junior was right, the road was fantastic. Paved, but well maintained, almost no traffic (saw one car between the turnoff and Yaak), and twisty! Yet another ‘smell moment’ … deep scent of pines about half-way to town.

· One of the things Junior’s tales of Yaak always include, is the Dirty Shame Saloon. As I pulled into Yaak, I was crushed to discover that the DSS was closed. But up for sale!! (Get rich idea number 2 for this trip … new ownership for the DSS!).

As seen in Junior's BT2008 and BT2010 (warning: second link contains drunken shenanigans!)

· So looking across the road, the Yaak River Tavern was open, and 'seemed' to be welcoming me.

· Parked the bike and walked into the front door. Discovered I had actually entered the corner-store portion of the place. Found my way to the tavern and noticed a nice patio out the back. There was a handful of tables on the patio, with only one other table occupied. The other table had the owners of the HD’s that were parked out front, chatting up the waitress. I sat down, stripped off my riding jacket, unzipped the side vents of my riding pants, and waited for service so I could enjoy an ice-cold beer.

· 5 minutes later, the waitress is still chatting up the other table, and I’m still beer-less. Just in case my ‘sitting in a bar looking hot and thirsty’ ploy wasn’t obvious enough, I try taking out my wallet and putting it in the middle of the table. Still no luck … not even a look.

· 15 minutes later, she’s still chatting with the other table, and I’m getting thirsty and more than a little pissed off. Eventually, enough is enough … this is the US dammit … there’s lots of places to buy beer! I pack up my shit, put on my jacket, and stroll off the patio right past her. Not even a glance from her. I’m not sure what I did to piss her off, but it must have been good.

· I get back on the bike and head out. There’s two ways out of town (three if I head back the way I came). I opt for the NF road that looks (according to the GPS) like it should dump me out somewhere on Lake Koocanusa.

· While the road into Yaak was fun, the road after was FANTASTIC. Still paved, but good pavement and relatively tight turns with big elevation gains and drops.

· The road wasn’t well marked on my maps, but the GPS showed it kicking out on Koocanusa near a ferry crossing. As it turns out, what I thought from the GPS was a ferry crossing, was actually just a wicked long bridge. As an aside … I’ve been to Koocanusa before, but never realized that the name comes from Koo(tenay) Can(ada) USA … a cross-border lake … my mind was blown.)

· The road headed north for a bit before cutting east at Eureka, only about 10km from the border.

· Pushed on to Apgar Campground in Glacier NP. The girls were already there and had camp mostly set up.

· We camped for two nights there. One of the nights, we had a wicked rainstorm roll in just after the girls went to bed. I sat out under the tarp, nursed the last of my US beer (travelling with a support vehicle affords such luxuries as cold beer), and enjoyed the stogie that Kenny had given me in Yakima.

Editors Note:
Ok, Ok ... I know I didn't finish this. Sort of ran out of steam, and to be honest, there was really only one good day of riding left after this point in the story ... and then slab all the way home.
But enough excuses. I actually felt bad about this while on my trip this past year (2013) (hint ... headed east again). I actually had the Mrs email me my trip-notes file while I was on the roadso that I could journal the last few days of the 2012 trip before I got too far into the 2013 trip. But alas ... didn't do squat. But I WILL get 2012 finished off before I start journalling 2013.

• Up with the birds. Broke camp, and got the girls on their way. Was on the road a bit later than usual … around 9:45. This was a mistake, given that it was the Friday of a long weekend. Traffic on the road in the park was already getting thick. Pushed on to the main lodge (Lake McDonald Lodge?) in Glacier Park for a coffee, muffin, and a sticker for the panniers. Once again, noticed a lot of folks prepping for backcountry trips sporting a lot of brand-new gear.

• As traffic proceeded to get closer and closer to ‘nose-to-asshole’ status, I started to get a bit impatient and was doing a bit more passing than usual, and as such was probably (translation: “definitely”) going faster than the posted limit. Pulled into a small rest-stop for fuel and beef jerky. In the short time (MAYBE 10minutes) that it took me to fuel up, pay the cashier inside, and remount, I watched the county-mountie pull over three different vehicles for speeding. He must have had a good trap set up a minute or so up the road, and was using the rest-stop to pull folks over. Thank-you Universe, for the reminder to slow down, enjoy the journey … and not give local law enforcement any additional assholes to deal with on a long-weekend.

Old-school park vehicle at McDonald Lake lodge

• Going To The Sun road was fantastic!! I can’t say enough about this road … apart from, don’t try to do it on a long weekend. While the traffic wasn’t terrible (it was still before lunch time), it was thick enough to keep your attention on the road instead of the amazing views. And, not unlike the mountain roads at home, with a construction season only a few months long, there was the occasional lane-control section while they fixed, filled, or F-d with something. Despite the traffic, it was still a fantastic route, and lots of good photo-ops (again, kicking myself that the Mrs had the decent camera), good light, and occasional low-fog to make things look ‘artsy’.

Despite the traffic, lots of spots to pull over and enjoy the view.

Construction delay

VIP Parking at Logan Pass visitors centre

As close as I got to hiking the summit.

A hanging glacial valley … peeking out of the clouds.

• As I approached the border crossing at Chief Mountain, I passed Susan and the girls … just finishing a roadside picnic lunch. I cleared customs, and pulled over to wait for the girls … only a handful of vehicles behind me at this point. As a matter of habit now, when Susan and the girls travel without me, we have a pile of paperwork that is meant to ease the fears of the border agents that she’s not absconding with the kids as the result of some custody battle. IF the agents give a shit, it can turn an otherwise routine crossing into a bit of a hassle. Usually, if the agent is going to make an issue about it, they lead the conversation with ‘Where is the father of the children?’, at which point Susan needs to dig out the documentation. On this crossing, when asked the question, she simply pointed to me sitting at the side of the road ahead, and said ‘Right there … you already let him in!’. Apparently that was good enough.

• Somewhere between the border and the Waterton townsite, I lost the girls. They must have stopped to take pictures or something. So I grabbed a bite to eat in town, and then grabbed some pics around the Prince of Wales hotel.

Prince of Wales hotel from town

And again, from closer up

And again, from the front lawn

• After checking out town, and the Prince of Wales, I finally found the girls, and we went to the townsite campground and got everything set up. As far as camping goes, it’s pretty plain, but the location is really nice. Some friends from Calgary, Rich and Trish and their three munchkins, were meeting us here the next day. The proximity of the lake and some pretty pedestrian ‘hiking’ trails within a few minutes helped occupy the kids’ time. And meant that Rich and I could drink and perform parental duty without too much difficulty.

• After getting camp set, and cleaned up, we went back into town … guess where … to the Prince of Wales hotel. (I swear there’s a ton more things to see in Waterton … I just didn’t seem to take pictures of them!).

OK … I might have gone overboard with pics of the PoW Hotel

All gussied up and ready for dinner

• Had a really good weekend at Waterton Lake. Mom and Dad came down from Calgary and joined us for a short hike and had dinner with the two families one night. Lots of time spent throwing rocks in the lake, drinking, catching up with Rich and Trish, and generally having a good time.

Looking north up the lake towards the US end of the lake.

Sooooo … sit right back, and you’ll hear a tale; A tale of a fateful trip ….

Apparently they have elk-boxing … must have been closed for the holiday weekend.

All the trees down here look like this … stunted and leaning from the constant wind.

Keep in mind that this is a GLACIER-FED lake … those Edmonton chicks are TOUGH!

· This morning was hotter than hell, as had been the rest of the weekend. Luckily, at this elevation things cooled off pretty nicely at night so sleeping was comfortable. But once the sun got above the yard-arm, it got too hot in the tent to sleep too late. And the friggin’ birds. ‘Nuff said.

· By the time we got the camp packed up and stowed, I was already dripping in sweat … and I wasn’t even in riding gear yet. Eventually, I got the girls on their way, donned the riding gear, and said my good-byes to Rich and Trish and their clan.

· Normally, it wouldn’t have been a taxing ride. And in fact Hwy 22 (also known as ‘The Cowboy Trail’) from Hwy 3 north towards Calgary is normally one of my favourite rides in the province. But between the heat, and the holiday Monday traffic that was sure to abound, I wasn’t looking forward to the majority of today’s ride.

· The fantastic scenery lasted well outside the National Park, and the first bit of the day was quite nice. As you exit the mountains, there’s a pretty well defined foothill landscape, before you run into the bald-ass prairie. With a quick deke to West to get onto Hwy22, I’d be able to follow the foothills most of the way to Calgary. As a kid, I always figured the views along Hwy 22 were right out of a Louis L’Amour novel.

Vistas for DAYS!

More of the same

· As expected, the scenery along Hwy 22 was fantastic. But being the Monday of a holiday weekend meant that as the morning progressed, the amount of traffic … especially holiday trailers … increased. Hwy 22 is only 2-lanes (one in each direction) with occasional passing opportunities. After starting the day quite relaxed and mellow, I soon found myself getting pissed off and making questionable decisions regarding passing traffic. After coming to this self-realization (after a bit of a close call) I calmed down. At the same time, I managed to find myself past the platoon of 5th-wheel trailers that I’d been passing, so I got a click-or-two ahead of them, matched speed, and felt like I had the place to myself … as it should be!

· After a quick pit-stop at my parents’ place in Calgary to sign some papers, I headed north on Hwy 2 towards home. For those that don’t know, Hwy 2 is the main, 4-lane corridor between Calgary and Edmonton. With record population increases in the province over the past couple of decades, it’s a gong-show at the best of times. On a holiday-Monday, it was a circus. I was averaging 130 kph (posted limit is only 110) and was getting passed … by Greyhound busses!!

· Anyway, I finally pulled up in front of the house in mid-afternoon. Between the slight slope of our street, and the side-to-side camber of the road, parking a fully-laden bike is always a bit dicey if you don’t do it properly, and in my rush to get off the bike and out of my gear … I didn’t do it properly. And promptly executed a perfect slo-motion drop onto its right-side pannier. Luckily none of the neighbours saw anything, and with the panniers on, it doesn’t fall far and is easy to pickup! I guess if this is the only ‘accident’ I have on a 5,700 km ride, then I don’t have too much to complain about!

Soooo … as mentioned previously, this ride report suffered some serious neglect … a break of over a year. The only thing that incented getting the damn thing done was some minor OCD and not wanting to leave it unfinished before I started writing up this year’s trip (stay tuned … over 11,000 km!!).
So in keeping with the theme of ‘completeness, I thought I’d tally up some of the fuel and milage stats that I included on the last ride report.